


A Little Helper

by TheBuggu



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBuggu/pseuds/TheBuggu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> People kept asking if I was gonna put the Helper related ficlets I wrote up on here eventually. WELL. Here goes!

 

 

 

> **Anonymous asked: What's the saddest thing Helper ever experienced?**

 

He quickly hid in the nearest vent, curling into a shivering ball. He heard the screams and begging from the others, pleading to stay. Ship wasn’t responding; they had shut its consciousness off. Some of the others were stepped on carelessly. The crunching of metal hurt to hear. 

He had to hide, even further. Instinctively, he darted up the vent. He heard a few others climbing behind him. He climbed up out of the vent’s top, pulling himself up into the crawlspace. He turned around the pull the ones following him up to safety, but as he reached for the closest hand, bullets flew up into the vent.

The owners had fired through their end. 

He shrieked as he helplessly watched those hit fall down, bleeding out or already dead.

He pulled back, shaking, and scooted to hide in the tiniest, cramped corner of the crawlspace. He buried his head on top of his arms and sobbed.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 **H** e was awakened by a sudden push against his frame; a warm and welcoming feeling. His stirred and snapped open his optics and glanced around. He flexed his tiny servos and sat up in confusion. The sensation occurred again. He froze and clutched at his chest. “S-ship?”

The pulse enveloped him again. _‘Where. Others. Where.’_

He made a shaky gasp and sat up from his bed of wires. “Ship!” he exclaimed. “You came back online!”

This time, he was met with a confused pulse as the old bond prodded him.

 _'Old. G_ o _ne?’_

He nodded slowly. “The old owners sold you, Ship. The new ones…They must have reset your settings.” Despite the joy he felt for Ship to be awake once more and communicating, he couldn’t help but to curl bring his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs and hid his face against them. “But, it’s only me now,” he whispered.

Ship gave another burst of urgency.

“They found us all. Right after they shut off your consciousness. They…they just…started grabbing some of the others. Most were thrown off the ship through the airlock. Some were used as targets for their weapons…,” the tiny maintenance mech explained and sniffled. “I don’t even know w-why.”

Ship immediately replied with an angry flare of energy.

“P-please, Ship. Don’t reveal yourself to the new ones! Promise me.”

The ship’s anger only grew through it’s pulsing field.

“I’ve been so lonely, Ship,” he whispered. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of…”

’ _Lonely…Lonely. Miss. Them._ ’

He nodded and turned over on his nest of wires. He stared out through the long glass panel beside him and gazed at the vast, wide starry outside. “Me too, Ship.”

For days, he was too afraid to leave his hidden room nested in between some of the vent passageways, but when he finally gathered his things, Ship pulsed in protest with several quick waves of energy.

“Ship, I gotta keep you in good care!” he replied and ignored the pleas for him to stay hidden.

Ship, deflated, silently sent him a private language pack for the new owner’s and inhabitant’s spoken language. It would be much easier to understand them that way.

He almost encountered one crawling around in the vents. Luckily, he was very diligent and had noticed the large blue form before the inhabitant could notice him and he hid again, allowing it to pass by him. And for many, many days after, he only wandered around a few feet back and forth through the ventilation system, fueled by paranoia.

He only was brave enough to sneak down to Ship’s fuel, to intake a tiny share for himself. Ship urged him to fuel more frequently, but he was still too shaken and didn’t dare travel more than a bare minimum.

More time passed eventually passed.

A vent passage led him to the orange one’s office and there was a tall shelf coincidentally propped directly under the opening.  The shelves were covered in many different ship models and curiosity got the better of him. As he slowly, slowly, slowly slide the vent cover open, Ship begged him to remain hidden. He dropped down behind a large ship model, one just his size, and stared at it with awe. He reached out to touch the shiny model and jumped when the door from below snapped open.

He moved at the fastest speed ever taken in his life and he climbed back into the vent in a flash.

Eventually, he spent his days spying through the vents as the inhabitants of Ship paced up and down the halls. He had lost track of how many he saw; the tiny lines he crossed on the vent wall for each new passenger spotted had quickly filled up and he had no one room to scratch new lines.

“They seem…nice, Ship,” he murmured softly from his observations.

Ship gave a comforting squeeze against him.

More time passed and the fear of being found soon diminished. None of the inhabitants were looking for him, it seemed.

After he took the first step in getting back into a routine, he grew and grew feeling at ease around the new ship owners. He started with sneaking down to the floor panels, checking the plating alignment, and running for cover if he heard approaching footsteps. It helped that the new inhabitants spoke really loud. It was always a great way to keep track of any in his vicinity—that and Ship helping him stay alert.

Ship often warned of battles or if enemies invaded the ship, so he always stayed hidden then.

Even more time had passed.

He found himself becoming even braver as his internal chronometer counted days away. He would sneak into the orange one’s office and listen as he spoke to other inhabitants about their problems; being nice enough to wipe and clean his model ships.

But, one day, he had been cornered on the ground as he was checking the floor panels by a four-legged inhabitant. It was smaller than most of the others, but was he was still afraid as the black mech crouched down and stalked towards him.

“What are you exactly?” it rasped over his head and poked him with a paw.

“P-please,” he begged and took a step back. “Please don’t…” He felt so tiny and vulnerable.

“Hmmm,” the large feline purred. “Megatron should see you.”

“Please don’t kill me!” he begged and curled up into a ball.

It reached down for him with its mouth, but suddenly a long pincer prong shot forward from the ceiling and grabbed at the creature’s neck. When he heard a yowl of surprise, he quickly glanced up and scrambled away from the thrashing creature. He darted to the nearest opening only large enough for him to enter and he dove inside. He didn’t stop running and climbing until he reached his familiar hiding place in the vents. He buried himself in between the wires and sniffled again.

Ship immersed him with a comforting field.

’ _Safe. Now._ ’


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special appearance of Rung!

He should have checked the orange one’s office more thoroughly before exploring it, but it seemed like every other time. The office was often abandoned at these late hours and he loved sneaking to the ship models all lined up on the shelves and admiring them; some nights, when he felt brave, he would climb on a bigger model and sit inside its cockpit and pretend to fly it.

After opening the same vent as usual, he dropped down to the shelf below with ease. The office was dimly lit.

’ _Bad idea,_ ’ Ship warned him as he gazed out at the room.

“I’ll be more careful,” he whispered in assurance. “Just promise that you won’t be drastic like last time. Please, Ship!”

Ship gave a hesitant and confused pulse in response.

“If…I get caught, maybe they won’t hurt me too much,” he reasoned. “But they’ll turn your consciousness off! Just like the last owners. Please…I don’t want to see you disappear again.” He sniffled and crossed his arms. “Please, Ship. Promise me?”

Ship produce a conflicted wave of agreement.

He beamed with a large smile. “I’ll be really careful.”

He grabbed a small handful of wire from the bundle on his back and tied it to the vent grill. He gave it a few testing tugs and allowed the lengthy cord to fall to the ground once he was satisfied with it. He climbed onto it and slowly wiggled down on the wire, descending down inch by inch. Eventually, his pedes hovered just above the surface of the lowest shelf layer connected to a hefty desk and he dropped down onto the metal with a soft _oomph._

Normally, he would go to examine the biggest ship models kept on the lower rows, but a large tray instantly caught his attention. Placed on its center, there was a deep bowl filled with energon treats. He perked up and quickly glanced around before edging towards it, licking his mouth eagerly. He approached the bowl rim, having to lean on his tiptoes, and peeked in. There were many diced cubes of energon sitting inside. Most of the pieces were larger than his head.

Quickly, he dug into the pile and pulled out the tiniest pieces he could find. They would help spare him a few trips down to Ship’s fuel storage. He managed to find one only as thick as his arm and one half the size of his neck, probably considered crumbs to the ship’s inhabitants, and he bundled them together with a thinner wire.

And that’s when the office door opened with loud snap.

He gasped and quickly ducked down against the bowl as soon as the familiar orange frame stepped inside. He heard the orange one humming as he entered and flickered the lighting on.

“Ahh, there they are,” the orange murmured.

Before he could react, the bowl was lifted up and away, exposing him. He heard a soft gasp from overhead and gazed over his shoulder. The orange one was standing directly behind him, peering down at him with a curious expression.

“Oh my. Well, hello there.”

He froze and shifted his optics away, digging his fingers against the metal surface.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you aboard before?”

He jerked up as soon as he realized that a hand was reaching for him and he scrambled back several inches, producing panicked intakes.

“It’s alright,” the orange one whispered to him and carefully placed the bowl of treats back down. “I’m giving you space. Is that what you need?”

He hadn’t missed the subtle notion of the bowl being pushed back in his direction. When he looked up again, the orange one had pulled a chair up and sat down several feet back.

Ship was sending frantic signals to him, begging him to flee and hide.

“I don’t recall anyone matching your description on the ship’s roster,” the orange one murmured, intertwining his fingers as he observed. “How long have you been here?”

He was too frightened to respond with a single word and instead continued to scramble backwards, putting more and more distance from the bowl of energon; he never took his optics off of the orange one. The orange one offered a small smile and tilted his helm, as if trying to coax him to respond.

However, as he remained quiet, the orange one shifted in his chair.

“I noticed that my models have been kept very clean, especially the smaller slots where it’s harder to reach. I wonder…are you responsible for that?” The question held the same gentle and warm tone, but he still trembled and swallowed nervously, realizing he had been caught. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry–I appreciate it actually.”

He winced and whimpered, scraping up the courage to mutter a soft, “P-please forget you saw me.”

The orange one made a confused sound and blinked. “Forget you? Are you a stowaway?”

“N-no. Please–I just–I don’t want…”

“Easy, easy.” The orange one stood up, pushing his chair back, and turned away. “I think I have some smaller model parts and one of those is a cockpit seat that you can sit on if you’d like. Just let me find it…” he muttered and quickly dug through a bin at the far side of his room.

He stood up, spark pounding in his chest and glanced to the wire still dangling from the ceiling. Without a second thought, he rose on shaking legs and darted for it. It was fastest he ever ran and climbed in his existence; nearly flying up the wire. The vent was within reach, just a few inches above, when the wire gave way on him.

The last thing he saw before darkness overcame him was the vent and his way of freedom growing farther and farther away. He landed smack-dab on the center of the desk by the bowl of energon, smacking his helm roughly against its surface.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helper meets more of the crew!

The several voices speaking overhead was the first thing to catch his attention when he stirred back into consciousness; he groaned in confusion and rubbed his optics. He felt sore and exhausted, struggling on the threshold to stay awake. There was bright light shining directly above. Loud and foreign machines sputtering with rhythmical patterns rang into his audials.

’ _Up! Up!_ ’ Ship nearly crushed his spark with numerous waves of the odd request. ’ _Hide!_ ’

He made a soft whine.

“–chet. He’s stirring.”

He froze as reality rushed back to him and he glanced around quickly. Hovering above him, and the padded mat he was laying on, was one of the medic inhabitants. He never strayed close to their area. Medics scared him. The medic had a blue visor, and a red and white paint job.

“Hi there,” the medic greeted him. “I know you probably hurt a little, but try not to move.”

He gasped and glanced away, quickly adverting his optics.

“You weren’t kidding, Rung,” another voice, a much grumpier sounding one, spoke up. “This one’s skittish like a new spark, but the frame is–tch–archaic.  There’s so much minimal plating armor that he’s almost like a protoform.”

He snapped his optics closed and froze, hoping that they would just leave him alone and ignore him.

Large, blunt fingertips pressed against him. He froze and swallowed nervously, hesitantly cracking one optic open to see. They focused around his left hip, causing him to hiss in a mixture of stinging pain and surprise. Both medics were standing so close to him; it gave his spark a looming feeling of dread.

“Yeah, this joint’s rusting a bit,” the gruff voice commented casually. “And he’s covered in filth.”

“So, the fall didn’t injure him then?” the orange one asked.

He glanced to the end of the large berth to see the orange one was indeed there; standing at the corner with a supportive smile. He froze when the orange one waved and stepped closer before turning his attention back to the speaking medic.

“Eh, probably dented his helm a bit, but I’m more concerned about this joint.”

A sudden hissing at the doorway caught their attention; the medbay’s door slid open. He heard more talking, two new voices, enter. He fully opened his optics and spied as two more of the ship’s inhabitants entered: one a dark and duller gray frame that looked imposing, the other was a series of bright red, orange, and yellow and he looked confident and collected. He watched as they both slowly approached.

Ship was panicking and urging him to try and flee.

“Huh. Ravage wasn’t totally losing it,” the brighter one of the two spoke up.

The grumpy medic turned back to him; they both locked optics for a short time. “You two question him later,” he murmured as the berth raised higher in the air.

He froze when the medic lowered an odd looking tool at him and he whimpered. He shook his helm quickly, mouth quivering as he struggled to beg for freedom—but no words came. He scooted back from the long stylus and waved it away.

The grumpier medic sighed and glanced to the other. “First Aid.”

“Yeah,” the earlier voice responded from behind him.

Large fingers quickly wrapped around him and pinned to the berth. They spread to both arms and his right leg, keeping him firmly in place.

“Don’t be scared, little fella. Ratchet will help you.”

He felt helpless and weak. He tried so desperately free himself.

 _He heard screaming_. _It was a massacre._

He flinched back, panting frantically, as his optics darted back and forth.

“Ratchet, perhaps this should wait,” the orange one spoke up in concern.

“It can’t. He needs a replacement pronto.”

He squirmed and tried to wiggle for freedom.

“He can hate me later,” the gruff voice quickly stated.

There was more pressure against his hip joint.

His paranoia overwhelmed him. The medics were going to dissect him and cut him apart, limb by limb. He just knew it. His spark was pounding rapidly as he panicked. He pulled his left leg back and attempted to nudge the odd tool away.

“Hold still, runt,” the gruff voice ordered him. “I’ll weld you to the berth if I need to.”

He flinched again and quickly opened his mouth, producing a shaking plea. “P-please stop,” he whimpered. “Don’t crush me.”

The medic shook his helm. “Calm down, kid.” He then lifted the tool back to his leg.

“No!”

Suddenly multiple sets of the pronged pincers sprang down from the ceiling above. He watched as both medics and the orange one was restrained by their arms and waists and were lifted several feet up from the floor, and he scooted back on the berth again.

“What in the slaggin’ world?!” the grumpy medic cursed as they all squirmed in the air.

He clutched his chest, quivering with worry. Ship had tried to save him _again_. They would find out now.

“Ravage was correct then,” the gray one finally spoke up and gazed at him with piercing optics. He took a single step forward, folding his arms against his back. “This…drone has some sort of access to the ship and utilizes it to protect itself.”

“N-no,” he cried and sank down closer onto the berth, wishing he could just disappear.

“Alright, everyone stay calm,” the bright colored one strode forward and held up his servos. “Not gonna hurt ya, little guy. Can I sit down?” he asked with a chuckle.

Ship was still pinging him with several desperate flashes.

He adverted looking at the mech and inched back shyly again.

“I’m Rodimus,” he introduced himself as he took a seat on the other end of the berth. “What’s your name?”

“I…I don’t…have one.” He sent a few glances down to the floor below, trying to estimate the distance below.

“Really?” Rodimus asked, blinking several times. “Why are you here then?”

He whimpered again and fidgeted his fingers together.

“You aren’t in trouble. Don’t mind Ratchet,” he explained, gesturing to the suspended medic with a nod and he winked, “he just likes freaking out all the patients.”

“Yeah, I’ll remember that during your next exam, Rodimus!” the medic snapped, looking extremely aggravated.

He bowed his helm and sighed. “I’ve always been here, sir…Ever since the last owners.”

“Huh. Is that right?” Rodimus asked, leaning closer on one arm. “Those NAILs never mentioned anything about you.”

He frowned and crouched down, hugging his knees to his chest. “There were others like me. Many. We all took care of Ship. Ship’s our home. But the old owners…they discovered us and killed them,” he explained and buried his face against his arms. “Please don’t kill me, sir. I…It’s only me now, but I still try my hardest to work on Ship. Honest.”

“Whoa, whoa. Kill you?” Rodimus sputtered. “We aren’t going to kill you…You…hm.” He rubbed his chin in thought and leaned back. “Don’t have a name, huh?”

He shrank down when Rodimus stared down at him.

And then the mech snapped his fingers in excitement. “Helper. That sounds like a nice name, huh?”

“F-for me?” he asked with a soft tone.

“Yep. Helper. I like it.”

He bowed his helm again. “Thank you, s-sir.”

Rodimus leaned closer and tussled his helm with a finger. “Good. Now, I’m not sure how you’re doing it, but please let the nice medics down? They aren’t gonna hurt you either.”

He made a soft sound and glanced up to the three mechs Ship was still holding. During the whole conversation, Ship had gone unusually quiet. Perhaps…waiting for some direction. His optics fluttered back and forth in consideration. He had just been given a name. He…had a name now.

“Helper?” Rodimus prompted and caught his attention.

He—Helper—quickly nodded, servos clutching into tight fists. “A-alright,” he said aloud.

Ship didn’t respond yet.

Several minutes passed, but eventually the mechs were lowered back down on their feet slowly.

The grumpy medic, Ratchet, grumbled and glanced down to his servos. “He’s definitely dirty enough for that story to be true. He’s covered in oil!” he explained and quickly fetched a large basin. He pulled a lever and filled with with fluids, bringing the large bowl back to the berth.

Helper frowned as it was placed before him.

Ratchet pointed at him. “You. Get in and soak till it all comes off. All that mess would only agitate your frame if I tried to repair it at the moment.”

He swallowed and quickly climbed into the bowl, fearing the medic’s wrath. The solvent came up to his waist while standing, but Helper hid against the edge and sat down, allowing it to rise up to his shoulders.

Rodimus peered into the bowl and chuckled. “We’ll come back and speak to you later, Helper. Show Ratchet you aren’t afraid, even if you have to bite a finger or two.”

Rodimus disappeared a few seconds later, leaving Helper to his hiding place. He closed his optics and huddled down–at the very least, the cleaning solvent felt relaxing enough.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helper speaks with the captains!

Helper was adverted to the idea of being carried, even if it did cut off a lot of walking distance. He was seated in the orange one’s hand—Rung—and tightly hugging his knees to his chest. Rung had one hand cupped around the other palm and it made Helper feel slightly relieved from all the prying gazes of each inhabitant they passed by, but he was still so small.

“It won’t be much longer,” Rung murmured overhead.

Helper flinched and nodded hesitantly.

“Don’t worry,” Rung said soothingly, “Rodimus just wants to ask you a few questions.”

He tapped his fingers together as he glanced around and frowned. Helper couldn’t help but to wonder if it would hurt to just jump down to the ground from his current height.

Ship’s constant pinging over his spark did not help his nervousness either.

The walk with Rung had been a mostly quiet one, but after he turned a few corners, he cleared his throat. “If you enjoy visiting my office, I have no qualms about you returning later for your supplies. You like my models, correct?”

Helper glanced up over his shoulder. Rung stared down at him with a large smile.

He nodded shakily. “Y-yes. They’re nice…”

“Thank you!” Rung replied with a cheery voice. “I’ve collected them for many, many years. Long before the war.”

Helper made a soft understanding sound and glanced away again. During the current exploration of the crew, Helper often heard bits and pieces of the aforementioned ‘war’ but he felt so clueless. He was only familiar with Ship and its inner mechanisms, which did not include knowledge of a war. But, he didn’t mind that.

Despite how long Rung carrying him seemed to feel, it was over a few moments later. They stood outside the captain’s door. Rung announced himself before entering; Helper ducked down even more. The captain didn’t seem…frightening or harmful, but it came on instinct to Helper. He just wanted to care for Ship.

“Ahh, Rung. Good you brought 'im,” Rodimus said with a distracted tone.

Helper took a quick look, blinking in surprise at the site of the captain hunched over his desk and scribbling into it with an electro-knife.

“Rodimus, I think it’s best to keep the questions casual for now,” Rung explained in a gentle tone and approached his desk.

“Puh-lease, Rung. I’m always casual,” Rodimus replied. “Well, the flashy kind of casual. But, still! Casual,” he added with a smooth shrug and leaned back against his seat.

Rung lowered his hands down, giving Helper access to the metal surface below. He carefully climbed over his fingers and placed his feet on top of the desk.

The medic had replaced a joint in his hip. The odd sensation left him wobbling and trying to keep his balance.

“Huh. Your colors are different now,” Rodimus mused and rested his chin on his hands.

Helper fidgeted and glanced down to follow the captain’s stare. It was true that he had been covered in several dark layers of oil and dried energon, but the stains left him feeling proud with all the hard work he put into trying his best to keep Ship well maintained. He was now bright blue and white again; the blue covered a majority of his chest, thighs, arms, and legs, while his faceplate, shoulders, servos, and midsection were white. He couldn’t even remember the last time he looked so clean.

“Well, that’s ok,” Rodimus said with a chuckle and glanced around his desk.

Helper watched as the captain unplugged his console’s keyboard and slid it across the desk to him.

“Uh. Don’t really have any you-sized seats just yet,” Rodimus explained and nodded down at the slim keypad.

Helper kneaded his small servos together momentarily before he awkwardly stepped over to it and hesitantly sat down on the closest side.

“So,” Rodimus began and grinned, “You like that name? 'Helper’?”

Helper quickly nodded and bowed his helm meekly. “Yessir. T-thank you!”

“Alright then, Helper. I just want to ask a few things,” he explained. “Just so it’s on record.”

The maintenance bot made a soft and confused sound, but still nodded.

“Don’t mind me,” Rung spoke up as he took a seat at the corner adjacent to the doorway. “I’m merely observing and taking notes. Pretend I am not here.”

Helper glanced back to the orange one once before he gave his attention fully to Rodimus. “W-what do you want to know, sir?”

“For starters, when did you first come on the ship?” Rodimus questioned and leaned back in his chair again.

“It wasn’t…I…There was many of us,” Helper fumbled. “I…We…loved caring for Ship–I mean. The ship!”

“Yeah. You mentioned the others.”

“Yeah…” Helper sighed and glanced away. The screams and chaos still haunted him.

“How many of them?” Rodimus asked, folding his arms together.

“Ahh…A lot. Hundreds!” Helper replied quickly. “We were all assigned to the ship when it was first built.”

“You’re the only one left? Really?” Rodimus asked with a surprised tone.

Helper stared down at his feet and frowned. “Yeah…The last owners…They…Yeah,” he struggled to explain as his voice cracked weakly.

“It’s alright,” Rodimus interrupted and quickly caught Helper’s attention. “I’m more curious about what happened in the medbay. Was that really you?”

Helper froze and gazed up at Rodimus with wide optics. He couldn’t betray and reveal Ship. They turn off Ship’s consciousness. Just like before.

Rodimus noticed his hesitation and canted his helm. “Megatron thought you were some kind of drone with control of the ship. But…I don’t buy that. You’re just a teeny Cybertronian,” he murmured, pinching two fingers together in emphasis as he lowered his face closer. “Am I wrong?”

Helper whimpered and avoided the captain’s looming stare.

Suddenly a hand shot forward and wrapped around his waist.

“W-wait!” he begged as he was lifted in the air.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Rodimus replied and brought him optic-to-optic level. “I just need to test–” Before Rodimus could even finish, more of the mechanical arms lowered down from the room’s ceiling, snapping their pronged tips in Rodimus’ direction in a threatening manner.

He grinned and glanced to Helper. “Delayed reaction for someone supposedly in control of the ship. Seems likes you’re being protected, not doing the protecting.”

Helper swallowed nervously. He found himself being lowered back down to the desk. He backed away. “I…I just want to work on the ship. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

“Rodimus,” Rung called the captain and waved him over.

Helper watched anxiously as Rodimus scoffed, rolled his optics, and begrudgingly rose from his chair. He skirted around the desk and went to approach Rung at his seat. Helper quickly inched to the edge of the desk and looked around wildly for an exit. He became hopeful when he spotted a vent grater on the floor, near Rodimus’ chair.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Rodimus and Rung were still having a hushed conversation; Rodimus scowling and hissing, Rung frowning and calmly shaking his head. Helper took a chance and dashed down towards Rodimus’ chair without a second thought. And then he rapidly climbed down the chair leg. His spark was pounding madly, his limbs were shaking.

When he reached the floor, Helper scrambled down to the grater and yanked up the vent covering. He dropped down inside the small vent space and instantly crawled forward.

“I can’t do this, Ship,” he whispered and curled up around his knees again. “T-They’re going to shut you off again! And…and I’ll be all alone.”

He froze when he heard the creaking of the vent opening again. Helper glanced up and scrambled back. But, he had misjudged the vent. It didn’t connect to the entire ventilation system and the tunnel was barely a few feet long. He backed himself into the corner and closed his optics.

“There you are.”

Helper peeked from between his arms.

It was the same mech that had came in the medbay with Rodimus; the one who had called him a drone.

But now, he was…smaller. Nearly the same height as Helper.

Helper blinked quickly and stilled in surprise as the silver mech strode forward. He sat down directly in front of Helper and seemed to be…waiting.

“Speak when you are ready.”

Helper squeezed his optics shut and hid his face again.


	5. Size Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things to note here:  
> There's actually one more drabble that takes place before this one, but I haven't got it finished yet oops.  
> And this is SUPER NSFW. ;D
> 
> This was a commission Cosmicdanger on tumblr got based on some really nice art they made 8)
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings: Robo smut, Secondary valves, object penetrations, and the strangest threesome that I have wrote to date.**

In hindsight, Helper had to agree with Ship that he didn’t make the best choices at time— especially considering that his current self-imposed mission was to fix some loose wiring in one of the lesser used doorways. Well, it was currently not being used due to the fact that the wiring was indeed loose. And not opening. So, he had climbed up through the vents, traveling to the closest pathway to the door.

Things had slowly grown better between relations of the Lost Light and its crew since he had been discovered; it was relieving to feel free to explore without fearing that the new ship inhabitants would try to crush him.

As he passed by one of the rooms connected to the vents, he paused when he heard…odd grunting. Normally, fear of being spotted kept him from indulging with curiosity. But now, he felt comfortable exploring and he decided to approach the noise. It was coming from a vent hanging overhead in a room. Helper blinked and canted his helm.

It sounded as if a mech was gasping. He leaned closer and peered through the grates. The room was kind of small to a normal size mech—plenty of room for Helper’s size—with a berth attached to the wall. It was currently occupied by Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus. Helper blinked in surprise and leaned closer, peering at how strangely the blue giant was leaning over the Captain.

Rodimus was thrashing, having his arms pinned above his head. He screeched happily and begged Ultra Magnus to move faster. Helper froze, feeling stunned, and his optics quickly shifted away from Rodimus to Ultra Magnus, who was…thrusting at a rough and jagged pace. Helper was quick to notice the fluid leaking from between them and jerked back, faceplate heating up intensely.

He stumbled away and put as much distance between himself and the vent, hiding his face behind a servo. Helper could feel Ship sending curious probes against his spark.

“No…No, Ship. I…I’m alright. I didn’t see anything,” Helper murmured as he walked towards his destination.

’ _Helper, embarrassed?_ ’ Ship suggested. Helper could hear the teasing tone in its voice. ’ _Many of inhabitants interface._ ’

Helper shivered in response. He was very familiar with what interfacing was, especially with all the information packs transferred to him from Ship, but…he couldn’t imagine what it was like to have multiple beings living inside him and interfacing. Constantly.

’ _Helper is lonely?_ ’ Ship continued on, sending another wave against his spark.

“No…I don’t have time for that kind of stuff anyway, Ship!” Helper replied quickly; almost too quickly. “Besides, I’m an older frame…Heh. And so small too. I just need to focus on keeping you in tip top shape.”

Ship remained quiet, but something told Helper that it wasn’t satisfied with his response.

He arrived to the steel grate stationed just above the malfunctioning door and carefully pulled it off. As usual, he had a long cable prepared for descending down from the vent and attached to the edge with a magnetic clasp. He gave the cable a testing tug before grabbing on and slowly lowered himself down, wrapping his legs around the string to keep a secure grip. Helper paused after reaching the same height level as the access panel for the wiring—several feet above the floor—and hoisted himself to the finger slots.

Ship retracted the protective panel for him, allowing easy access inside to the bundle of wires. Helper could make out several unlinked cable jacks and frowned. It was a wonder why the door wasn’t working.

“That’s the problem,” Helper commented and released his grip on his makeshift rope. He balanced on the edge of the panel’s inner lining and studied the cluttered mess. It was darker inside, except for thin red data wires that ran intertwined with them; the wires, thin even to Helper, were for Ship.

The wires provided sensory feedback, so it was always aware of occurrences. It was how Ship directed Helper and the other maintenance bots. At least…when they were still around.

Helper felt a pang of loneliness as he reached out for one of the light strings and gave it gentle stroke. It was still so hard being the only one of his kind left, but at least he had Ship again. After a few seconds, he quickly shook the feelings of solitude away with a brief flutter of the helm and quickly refocused his attention onto his task.

He pushed one arm in and tried to grab one of the jacks, but after a few yanks it was quite clear that the wiring was a much larger bundled mess. So, against his better judgment, Helper separated the mass as well as he could and wiggled in between them. He regretted it in mere seconds when wires managed to wrap around him and left him ensnared in tangles.

“Ahhh…Ship?” Helper called out between his struggles and grunted. “I’m stuck!”

’ _Yes,_ ’ Ship stated with an matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, that means I can’t move. And I can’t fix the door,” Helper elaborated with a pout. “And that is very distressing for me.”

An amused wave swept over Helper, as if Ship was trying to give a comforting pat to his head. ’ _Patient, Helper. Will bring assistance._ ’

Helper blinked. There wasn’t anyway the ship could get its pronged levers into the small gap, so that only meant that someone from the crew would be asked for help. And then, Ship went quiet.

At first, Helper didn’t think anything of it. But moments passed. And then, minutes. It wasn’t the best time to be left to his thoughts, especially with the haunting imagery of the captain being pinned down and thrusted into by Ultra Magnus. Helper wondered if being held down felt vaguely similar to the sensations the wires were giving by trapping him. His spark felt hot and heavy just thinking about it.

He tried to pull his arms closer, but cords managed to wrap around them. Helper could only whimper as the foreign sensation of feeling…needy built up. It felt distracting and strange. Any desperate pleas to Ship went ignored oddly.

Helper wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but hope sprang up when he heard a distinct set of footsteps approaching. Closer and closer. He was relieved when a flash of grey armor filled his vision and he was soon staring into piercing red optics. He froze under Megatron’s scrutinizing gaze and made an embarrassed noise.

The co-captain leaned closer, examining Helper and his bindings with an intrigued expression. “I suppose this is a good reason as to why the ship locked me from my own room.”

Helper smiled shyly and looked down at himself. “Ahh. Yes…Hello, sir. I can’t get out.”

Megatron chuckled and crossed his arms. “Indeed.”

Ship made an unexpected and teasing probe against him, and it asked in a quiet voice, ’ _Interface with captain?_ ’

Helper choked out a tiny gasp in response and resumed pulling at his arms. “A-actually, I’ll be able to free myself. No need to worry about me.”

“If that were the case, I find it hard to believe your ‘Ship’ would bother me,” Megatron replied pointedly and lifted an arm up. “Now hold still,” he ordered gently and pushed into the wires. He used one servo, spreading his fingers to allow more wiggle room. Slowly, the large blocky fingers wrapped around Helper and pulled carefully.

Helper was surprised by how gentle and precise Megatron was with untangling him. He could only watch, with faceplates still faintly smoldering, as those red optics leered closer and lit up the darkness. Wires unraveled around his limbs thanks to Megatron’s diligent work and moments later, he was jostled as Megatron pulled him out.

“There,” Megatron said and lifted Helper closer to his face. “Are you damaged?”

Helper made a soft noise and quickly glanced away. “No, no…I’m alright. Thank you, sir.”

“Hmm.” Megatron’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You look frazzled and overheated.” Without giving the maintenance bot a chance to respond, Megatron pressed a finger to his helm, drawing a flinch in response.

“Ahh. I merely saw something embarrassing,” Helper explained, voice wavering. “I saw…Captain Rodimus in a very compromising position.”

Megatron nodded. “If you’re referring to his interfacing habits,” he stated with a blunt tone with a twitching optic, “Believe me when I say that you would not be the first. Rodimus likes everyone on the ship know his private business. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to proposition you,” the co-captain muttered.

Helper shuffled awkwardly and made an uncertain laugh. “A-ah. I don’t think that’d be a problem, sir. I mean, look at our size differences. No one would really be interested in my size, I don’t think.”

He could feel Ship teasing him relentlessly as he realized the implications of his words. Megatron gazed down at him, speechless for a moment. The co-captain’s mouth opened and closed several times and his optics swept over Helper’s body, judging his comment in silence. Helper wouldn’t mind being dropped, he could run away with some dignity still intact.

And then, of all things, Megatron…laughed. Helper groaned in embarrassment and quickly shielded his face behind his tiny servos.

“Is that what you think?” Megatron asked between chuckles. “You wouldn’t be able to interface due to your size?”

“Yes…?” Helper felt anxious. Was this an attempt at making a joke?

“That strikes me as interesting,” Megatron murmured. “Are you saying you aren’t interested if someone offered, or that you just haven’t tried?”

Helper froze. If Ship could move, it’d be flipping happily at Megatron’s question. He coughed against his servos. His faceplate burned intensely. “N-no one’s really offered,” he blurted out and dragged his servos down his face.

“Well, there’s always a first time,” Megatron said pointedly.“If you’re willing, that is.”

Helper could feel his faceplate scorching.

’ _Accept!_ ’ Ship urged quickly, oozing with excitement through their bond.

“Y-you want to?” Helper asked, feeling a mixture of surprise and shock. “It’s…ah…been a long time to be honest. I m-might not be worth the effort.” Well, in all honestly a 'long time’ was actually a 'never’. But, Megatron didn’t need to know that.

“All the more reason, should you wish to unwind,” Megatron murmured, dragging the tip of a finger to his chin.

Helper fidgeted. “That’s true…I mean, it’d be easy for you since you can change your size.”

“I could,” Megatron mused and smirked. “To make this more interesting, I won’t though. But, only if you are comfortable with this. I’m not interested in forcing you,” he explained.

Helper stared up at the co-captain, mouth gaping, as he considered his options. Ship would never forgive him after trying to egg him on to accept. And there was still the lingering images of Rodimus and Ultra Magnus. So, building his courage, Helper nodded meekly. “Alright. Yeah.”

To his surprise, Megatron gently nudged him back and guided him to lean against his fingers. Slowly, the blunt end of Megatron’s thumb wiggled between his thighs, quickly bringing a shaking gasp from the maintenance bot. Helper shuddered from the contact and the heated friction, daring to sneak another glimpse up to Megatron.

The co-captain was staring down at him as he ran his up and down along his array.

“You’re quite expressive,” Megatron commented casually. “Many would appreciate that.”

Helper whimpered, rolling his head back.

This only encouraged Megatron. “Let me see your equipment. I have a few ideas.”

The maintenance bot paused and frowned. “I have…It won’t be as current as you might be used to.”

Megatron merely chuckled again and continued on stroking between his thighs. Helper arched against the crooks of the co-captain’s fingers and released a shy sigh as he opened his array. He glanced down between his legs, denta nibbling against his bottom lip, as his spike all too quickly sprang to freedom. His spike was a moderate length, for his size at least, and covered in the same white and blues as his paint job; even with two biolight slots running on the sides of the shaft.

“What’s this?” Megatron asked after his covers also parted, curiosity piqued. He tilted his servo up, exposing Helper more.

“A-ah…It was accidental addition,” Helper explained, panting heavily from the attention.

“Ahh, yes. Back then this would be considered faulty production,” Megatron murmured, sensually rubbing his finger back and forth both entrances. “Now, I can assure you that mechs are enthralled with a secondary valve. It’s envious these days,” he explained as the friction increased.

Helper gasped again and kneaded his servos on sides, grabbing in between the co-captain’s finger joints eagerly. In a matter of only seconds, his frame heated up and he overloaded from a mere touch. He whimpered, tossing his head back. “I-I’m sorry, sir.”

Megatron canted his helm a few degrees and lifted his servo and Helper up closer to optic-level. “One overload is not the end. You’re merely sensitive,” the co-captain murmured. In an instant, his large glossa slid out and dabbed into the small pile fluids seeping out onto his palm. He flashed his optics up and down Helper’s frame before brushing the blunt tip of his glossa against both valves.

Helper gasped and arched up. Megatron’s glossa was so thick and long, making Helper writhe wildly as it nudged against him. He was quivering after Megatron pulled back and smirked. He hid his face behind his hands, producing soft and shy gasps.

“Yes,” Megatron mused, “you would be a thrill to others.”

Helper took a quick peek up at Megatron again, blinking in surprise when he saw the fluid motion of his chestplate opening. A green aura shined brightly; Helper gazed at the giant and beautiful spark.

“Trust me.” Megatron’s voice was gentle and reassuring as he repositioned two fingers around Helper’s waist. They slipped around and pulled his legs apart, gently spreading him and exposing both valves. Without warning, Helper was lifted up in the air. He was greeted to quick and sporadic jolts of energy as Megatron pressed his bottom half against his spark, causing a swift increase of heat as Helper was grinded back and forth across the very edge of the spark.

Mouth gaping, the maintenance bot gripped tightly to Megatron’s fingers as the odd sensation flushed energy into his valves. They dripped eagerly at the abundance of charges, drawing harsh panting from the maintenance bot.

“O-oh, oh my,” Helper breathed out in an off-key moan. He could feel another building charge. It was so overwhelming, but it felt amazing and new.

Ship had remained silent the whole time, but he could feel it observing; pushing eager waves across his own spark.

Helper quickly pushed his face against Megatron’s finger as he came undone once more. He whimpered and squirmed as his valve contracted and spasmed madly. It went on for several minutes, with Megatron’s spark increasing its warmth and filling him with a pleasant sensation.

But, the pleasantness didn’t last for long. A sudden, blaring screech from the overhead speakers caught their attentions, causing Helper to jump in surprise. Megatron paused.

“Hey, Megatron!” Rodimus called out, voice ringing loudly. “Meeting time. Figured this way would get your attention since you’re ignoring my frequency.”

Megatron made a loud hum, optics flashing an annoyed squint.

“A-ah…I…I understand, s-sir,” Helper mumbled weakly, still panting. “You’re quite busy.”

“That is true, but I intended to do so much more,” the co-captain mused sadly.

Helper expected to be placed down and watch as Megatron rushed off to the meeting, but the co-captain did not seem to be in a hurry. Helper was pulled away from the pulsing spark, regrettably, and lifted in the air—still supported by Megatron’s thick fingers. Helper twiddled his fingers together and glanced down to the floor.

However, he was brought back up to level with the door’s wiring panel—not…that Helper had forgotten about fixing the door, of course—and he watched as Megatron reached inside with one hand. Carefully, Megatron pulled out a few wires, each with a connecting head jack, and held them up to his optics and examined them.

“Megatron, sir?” Helper asked, confused by the action.

There was a strange glint in Megatron’s optics as he nudged Helper to lean back again and dragged one of the jack tips up and up against his barred valves. He kept Helper’s legs separated and lowered the maintenance bot down into the nest of wires. His legs were wrapped several times, keeping them far apart, and quickly interwoven with the mass of wires.

Helper whined as he watched, stunned by Megatron’s careful artistry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll return very soon. I’m sure Rodimus only wants to waste my time after all,” the co-captain explained.

And before he knew it, a thick and blunt tip circled around his port. It rubbed against his outer node in a slow and sensual motion.

“Why not let the ship take care of you for the time being?” Megatron suggested with a smooth tone.

Ship sprang to life after listening to Megatron’s words and swarmed Helper with encouragement. He jerked and whimpered in surprise, but quickly took to grind down against the jack head. He wanted it in, even though his frame was neglected and inexperienced.

“Oh please, sir. Please! P-please, please,” Helper begged, hesitantly tugging against the closest bunch of wires.

Megatron chuckled softly. “Yes,” he whispered and nudged the jack up to his valve.

Helper gasped and held his intake as he felt the intrusion push forward. His valve clenched and wriggled, trying to awkwardly adjust for the jack head. His helm lolled to one side and he whimpered over and over. It was so foreign, but…it felt strangely wonderful. Helper leaned forward, watching Megatron gently push the jack in.

He panted viciously as he overlooked Megatron; Megatron was patient and controlled as he coaxed the tip inside. “This…is…oh my…oh my, sir!”

And then, Megatron finally got the piece in as far as Helper’s inexperienced valve would allow—leaving a few inches of exposed metal—and leaned back to admire the work. However, he waited only a moment until grabbing another jack and lifting it up for Helper to watch. Helper’s mint-colored optics were glued to the plug in and he swallowed with a growing sense of excitement.

“Hmm. If Rodimus tries to waste my time, I’ll consider kicking him out of the airlock. He picked the worst, inconvenient time, especially since I’ve discovered how…charming this is,” Megatron growled, but his amused expression belied any irritation.

Megatron repeated the action of aligning the cable jack to Helper’s valve and he carefully nudged the tip in. Helper jerked back and forth, lightly pulling against his leg restraints. Helper moaned eagerly as he was penetrated once more; intrigued by how strange but wonderful it felt to be so full. His valves were stinging and his legs ached at being kept apart several degrees…but Helper loved it. It helped that this was an extension of Ship, it was almost like Ship was there with him.

And then…to his surprise, the red data lines running with the cables glowed brightly and warmth overtook his valve.

’ _Helper_ ,’ Ship spoke quietly. ’ _Make Helper feel good_.’

“Ahhhh….ahhh! S-Ship,” Helper crooned and groaned appreciatively.

“I can see you’ll be in good hands,” Megatron whispered from above. He watched Helper and caressed the maintenance bot’s cheeks, running against the speckles on his face. “Yes…A very cute face…”

The last thing Helper saw before Ship closed the door’s panel was Megatron reluctantly turning away and stepping down the hall in a slow gait. In the darkness, Helper was put at ease by the glow of Ship’s data cables and the warm obtrusions in his valves. He grabbed a wire with his free arm and brought it to his face, nuzzling against it, with a quivering smile.

At least, with Ship around him, Helper didn’t mind waiting for the meeting to end.


	6. Trailcutter Makes a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually commissioned by CavalierConvoy on tumblr! Timeline wise, this would take place between Ch.4 and Ch. 5

Trailcutter found his newly found–if forced–sober life…strange to say the least. He often thought about what life was like on a constant buzz and he missed it; definitely. But now, he was assigned the role of the Director of Security. Which explained why he was traversing an uninhabited area of the Lost Light.

“Uh…ok. This way?” Trailcutter questioned more to himself than out loud. He scratched his helm and glanced around, looking through hisses of steam.

It was his job now to examine the sentience of the ship and the little helping drone Rodimus kept going on and on about. The only problem was how crowded the area was, with pipes and vents all over. How was anyone on the ship supposed to navigate through this?

Eventually, Trailcutter picked up on distant talking the further he slipped through the pipe labyrinth. Squeezed, really. He followed the voice for several feet and glanced around curiously. He gaped at the sight of the tiniest little mech he ever saw in his life tied to a pipe while he straddled it, fidgeting with a bolt on it. He was so short, barely as tall as a human.

The little drone was mumbling to himself as he worked. Trailcutter eyed him for a moment before moving closer. He was covered in oil splatter, optic brows furrowed in deep concentration as he turned the bolt. Trailcutter then quickly coughed to announce his presence and sat down by the large pipe the little mini was working on.

“Hey there,” Trailcutter murmured.

He certainly didn’t expect the loud squeak of surprise and watched as the small mech scrambled a few feet up the pipe and clinged for dear life. After a moment, the tiny mech glanced up, swallowed nervously, and scooted around the pipe, as if to shield himself as he peered anxiously at Trailcutter.

“U-um.”

“Hey, little fella. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Trailcutter stated and crossed his legs together. “I just wanted to ask you some questions. Or are you busy?”

The mini quickly shook his helm and gazed at Trailcutter extremely nervously. “D-did I do something wrong?”

“Nah. Don’t be nervous,” Trailcutter replied and tilted his head. “Do you need help down?” he asked and reached a hand out. “You look like you’re gonna slip.”

Trailcutter eyed the height of the pipe–it came above his shoulders while he sat down. The little drone was as short as a human. What if he was just as fragile as one of the fleshy beings too?

But before he came within reach of the little mech, strange adapter limbs shot out towards him. Trailcutter yelped, snatched the drone in his servo and quickly activated his force field bubble. “Alright…That’s new!” Trailcutter hissed and glanced around. The prongs were jabbing at the yellow bubble. He then glanced down at the shaking mini he shielded and lifted him up. “You ok, lil guy?”

“Please…don’t hurt me,” he begged, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry. I won’t,” Trailcutter assured him. “Something on the ship is though, from the looks of it,” he explained as he watched how aggressively the pincer prongs stabbed repeatedly, trying to find an opening.

“N-no. It’s just…It’s not…S-Ship is trying to protect me,” he whimpered and scooted back against Trailcutter’s palm.

Trailcutter glanced up again, lips pulling into a thin line as he studied the prongs. “Uh. Really? Well…Why don’t we talk for a few minutes. I just…uh…need to gauge the sentience of the ship. Does it always do that?” he asked, gesturing to the frantic probes.

“Not…to be mean…” he replied meekly. “Ship just wants to protect me. P-please don’t tell Megatron! Ship will calm down, honest!” the small mech fumbled with his words and almost cowered in Trailcutter’s hand.

“Whoa…whoa. I’m not gonna say anything to Megatron,” Trailcutter replied and sighed. “I don’t blame ya for not wanting Megatron involved. He deactivated my F.I.M. chip. Pffft.”

He pursed his lips together and frowned.

“Oh…” the mini muttered, tapping his fingers together. “I’m sorry. He seems like a good leader.”

Trailcutter sighed. “Yeah. I guess. If he didn’t totally take away my free will to drink and get drunk as I pleased…You ever have someone take something away from you?” he asked and glanced down at the mini. He watched as he removed two a pair of goggles with translucent lenses and two bright mint-colored optics stared up at him.

“Yes,” the small mech eventually answered and bowed his helm.

Trailcutter blinked and watched as he wiped away the grime and oil from his face. Underneath all that dirt was a pale white face and speckles of dots scattered on his cheeks. Huh. It was while since he saw a bot with freckles; not since he left Cybertron.

“A long time ago…there was so many others like me. We were all bonded to Ship so we could all take care of it. But…the old owners, they found us and…and…they killed everyone except me,” he whispered and glanced away. “And they shut off Ship’s consciousness before they did it…”

“Oh!” Trailcutter replied and winced. “…oh. Yikes.” He frowned and scratched the back of his neck plating. “I guess…uh…grabbing you like that scares you, huh?”

“A l-little bit, sir.”

“Heh.” Trailcutter grinned. “You don’t have to call me that. Just Trailcutter. So, here’s the deal,” he explained and lifted the tiny mech up, “I’ll release the bubble and put you down if you tell your friend not to attack me.  I didn’t mean to upset them or you. That sound good?”

The mini-bot blinked and hesitantly nodded. “Alright…” he then glanced up the the prongs, still trying to pry at the force field and watched them. “Ship? It’s alright. He’s nice. He’s a friend.”

Trailcutter watched as the extended grabbers reluctantly froze and pulled away. They retreated back into slots in the walls and floor, leaving Trailcutter alone with his tiny acquaintance. He carefully disengaged his force field bubble and waited. After several seconds of uneasiness, it remained peaceful. “So, deal’s a deal,” he replied and gently lowered his servo back to the the ground.

Quickly, the little mech bounced back to the ground and turned to face Trailcutter again. “My name’s Helper. T-thank you.”

Trailcutter extended a finger in lieu of his giant servo compared to him. “Nice to meet you.”

Helper fidgeted but slowly reached out and grabbed the tip of his finger with both servos, giving it a slow shake.

It was definitely an interesting case, in Trailcutter’s opinion. It would have to be handled with care, but Trailcutter didn’t see the need to cause the little bot fear.

“So, Helper. It seems like it’s a big job for only you to maintain the ship,” Trailcutter announced, eyeing the surrounding pipes. “Do you ever get lonely?”

“Ahhh.” Helper blinked several times and shrugged shyly. “I…I’m used to it?”

“How I about I talk to the captains and see if we can organize help–heh–for you?” Trailcutter grinned.

Helper meekly mumbled, ringing his wrists. “Y-you don’t have to.”

“Hmm. Yeah, we’ll take it slow, alright?” Trailcutter asked and gently tussled his helm with a poke.

Helper smiled sheepishly and nodded.

It made the chief of security flash a growing smile as he adjusted his sitting position. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to live a more sober life after all.


	7. Under a Lover’s Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a compilation of drabbles I wrote of my oc, Helper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was commissioned by h-g-sol on tumblr! Takes place just a little bit after Chapter 5!
> 
> *TIPS HAT* M'elper....

Megatron glanced around several times before he stepped up the ladder hatch to the overhead ventilation system. He pushed the cover open and pulled himself inside after reaching the ceiling; crawling forward. He made a deep intake before he activated his mass displacer, while sliding the cover back closed. He glanced up when he saw a sudden red glow--many of the familiar red bio-light strings--and steadied his footing. Changing sizes always left him slightly dizzy from the side effect.

He smiled and bowed his helm in gratitude. "Ahh. Thank you," he murmured as he followed the trail of red lights. Eventually, he came to an intersection in the pathway, but just as quickly the lights directed him to turn right.

It was a quiet trip for the most part, aside from the ever repetitive sounds from the engine and inner mechanisms of the ship. But, Megatron never minded the silence. It was...refreshing compared to the frequent chaos on the ship. He came to a halt at a doorway, interestingly just perfect for his current height. Inside, it was a flat floor with a large domed circle of glass, displaying a perfect view of the stars outside.

He saw Helper, the friendly maintenance mech, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gazing up through the glass. Slowly, he walked forward, arms folded behind his back. "You weren't lying. This is...quiet a view," Megatron said quietly.

Helper jumped slightly and quickly turned his helm to gaze up at Megatron. However the surprise didn't last for long as his lips extended in a warm smile and he stared at co-captain affectionately. "You made it! I told you Ship would help with the directions."

"Yes," Megatron replied and gently sank down beside him. "It was just as you said," he explained and rubbed his chin.

With his free servo, he casually reached for Helper's white hand and gently encased it with his fingers. Helper froze, red tinting his pale cheeks, and smiled with a bashful expression. Hesitantly, he turned his servo over to meet Megatron's; intertwining their fingers as he scooted closer.

"This...this is where me and the other maintenance bots would come for some peace," he stated in a quiet tone and rested his helm on Megatron's shoulder. "I...haven't actually been here in a while."

Megatron hummed quietly and stared up at the stars. "It's a shame. They weren't even lost in the war. That makes it...more tragic. " He lifted his and Helper's hands up, rubbing the tips of his fingers into Helper's. "Did I mention that once I had been stuck in my gun mode for a few years? I couldn't move. My t-cog had been crushed."

Helper frowned. "Really? That sounds awful..."

"Mmm. An entire building had been dropped on me," Megatron said with a chuckle.  

"I'm sorry," Helper muttered, still frowning.

"Bah. Don't apologize!" Megatron brought Helper's servo to his lips and began to gently caress the other mech's fingers with warm kisses. "If anything, this just shows how we've both had our prisons to deal with, hmm?"

Helper didn't reply, but sighed and nodded in agreement.

Megatron wasted no time in pulling Helper closer and scooping him up, maneuvering him to sit horizontally on his lap. He brought their faces closer and pressed his lips to Helper's. Gently. Affectionately.

Helper gasped and quickly buried his face into Megatron's chest, giggling softly. "You tease."

"Nonsense." The co-captain moved his lips to Helper's helm and pecked it with many chaste kisses. "I'm far from a tease. I know many ways I could make your knees shake and weaken. How I could get your frame overheated in a matter of seconds," he murmured, leaning close to Helper's audials with a grin. He pressed another kiss to Helper's cheek. "But I am not entirely heartless."

Helper whimpered and practically melted in Megatron's arms. He glanced shyly up at Megatron again and wiggled closer. "A-are you...sure...? I mean. Someone like me?" he asked quietly, optics darting back to the glass.

The co-captain quietly chuckled as he lifted one hand and stroked the underside of Helper's chin. "I could ask the same of you, you know. There are many, many others here that would be better for you. Are you certain you're alright with me?" he asked, nuzzling the top of his forehead against Helper's.

"Well, you are the only one who change easily change sizes," Helper joked and flashed a soft grin. "And...to be honest, I feel like most of the others on the ship think I'm just...a little...nobody. I don't know." He signed and tapped his fingers together. "Sometimes, they'll reach out and just grab me like I'm so kind of toy or something...And it's kind of scary..."

"Ah." Megatron nodded in understanding, continuing to nuzzle against Helper. "Let me know when someone tries to pick you up without permission next time then."

Helper frowned. "I don't wanna cause any trouble."

Megatron gently grabbed Helper's chin and directed him to meet his optics. "Having your basic rights respected is more important than 'not causing trouble'." He glanced up, nodding to the glass dome. "Keep an eye on him, yes?" he asked aloud.

He swore he heard a loud purr of the engine in response and smirked.

"Good. It's settled," Megatron murmured and slipped one servo to Helper's underside, ghosting touches against his aft.

Helper squeaked in surprise and broke out into laughter. "It tickles!"

"Ahhh. Right. Ratchet recently did work on your joints, didn't he?" Megatron asked he wiggled fingers around Helper's hip joints. "I bet it feels sensitive, doesn't it?"

The maintenance drone's giggles broke out in high pitches as he thrashed in Megatron's lap, trying to gently swat away the probing fingers. "N-no! Stop! Hehehe! It t-tickles!"

Just as quickly, Megatron stopped and grabbed Helper's wrists. In an instant, Megatron pushed Helper to the floor, laying on his back, and leaned over him. They gazed into one another's optics for a brief, fleeting moment until Megatron made the first move. He brought their lips together again while Helper's fingers crept to his backside.

Megatron shifted closer and caressed Helper's cheek, tracing a thumb across his freckled face. "Under the twilight, a lover's delight," he murmured.

Helper blushed again. "Poetry in the work?"

The co-captain nodded. "I'm always drafting something in my mind. I don't often get inspired enough to voice it."

"I'm flattered," Helper replied, nuzzling his cheek into Megatron's hand. He then pressed several kisses against the co-captain's fingers and smiled. "Will you share more with me?"

"Yes," Megatron nodded and climbed off of Helper. He settled in beside him, pressing to Helper's side.

They both turned their attention back to the stars, eyeing them with fond expressions.


End file.
